It Will Always Be Yours
by Ser-Brienne-of-Tarth
Summary: Brienne's hands shook as she stared at the note in front her, trying to reconcile the words with the cruel things he'd said before he left. Braime fix-it because that ending is #notmycanon.


AN: My first fic, so be kind :) Had to do a Braime fix-it, because their ending left me too heartbroken to accept it as canon.

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_My Sweet Brienne,_

_Please believe that I have no regrets, only that it ended as it did. I told you once that Oathkeeper will always be yours. The same is true of my heart._

_Love,_

_Jaime_

Brienne's hands shook as she stared at the note in front her, which she had found carefully hidden in Oathkeeper's hilt. After Jaime had left last night, she'd tried in vain to get back to sleep but couldn't shake the pain in her chest. Not to mention, in just a few short weeks, she'd gotten so used to him in her bed that she wasn't sure how she'd ever sleep alone again.

At first light, Brienne had gotten dressed and moved to put on Oathkeeper, her heart heavy. It was then that she noticed the slip of paper, folded into the lion's mouth on the pommel. She read the words again, trying to reconcile them with the cruel things Jaime had said to her when she asked him to stay.

"She is hateful, and so am I," he had uttered, the pain clear on his face. Brienne knew now that Jaime hadn't left her to fight for his sister, but to try and stop her. Did his intentions matter, though? He was most likely a dead man either way, and she would be left alone in her grief.

Brienne faced a crossroads now. She could go after him; she was a much stronger fighter and he could use someone to watch his back. But following Jaime would mean leaving Lady Sansa, and Brienne wouldn't break her oath. She sighed and walked out of her room, towards the training yard. There, she found Lady Sansa watching the sunrise and scanning her surroundings, as if she was waiting for Brienne. This was most unusual, as her Lady rarely visited the training yard.

"Ser Brienne," Lady Sansa greeted, a somber expression on his face.

"My Lady," Brienne answered, trying to sound as though nothing were out of the ordinary. "How can I serve you this morning?"

"Ser, I'm afraid I have some upsetting news."

Brienne's chest constricted at this. "Go on, my Lady," she said softly.

"Ser Jaime was spotted riding out of Winterfell in the middle of the night."

"I am aware, my Lady. I know that I spoke up in defense of him; perhaps I should have realized that he would return to Cersei." Brienne knew in heart that Jaime would try to broker peace, rather than fight for Cersei, but she didn't think her word would mean much to Lady Sansa at this point.

"Ser Brienne, I think I might be responsible for Ser Jaime's hasty departure. I may have goaded him a bit when we received the raven about Missandei and the dragon's deaths. I'm sorry if I have caused you pain." Lady Sansa's voice was filled with sympathy, and Brienne felt all the worse for it.

"No, my Lady, Ser Jaime's actions are not your fault," Brienne responded. The tightness in her chest was becoming agonizing. She had to politely end this conversation; she didn't know that she could take much more.

"Ser, do you want to go after him?" Sansa asked, cautiously.

"My Lady, I am sworn to protect you. I go where you go," Brienne replied simply.

"Yes, but that is not what I asked," Lady Sansa's reply was gracious. "You have served me so well, Ser. The truest knight anyone could have asked for. And these past few weeks, while Ser Jaime has been by your side, I have seen you smile more than in all the years before combined. You deserve to smile. If you want to follow him, I give you your leave."

Brienne felt her heart swell with affection for her lady. A huge part of wanted to stay by Sansa's side; however, a bigger part of her was aching to follow Jaime. She had to protect him.

"My Lady, you are too kind," Brienne began. "It has been the greatest honour of my life, serving you, but you are correct that I feel compelled to follow Ser Jaime."

"Then you follow Ser Jaime," Sansa said simply. "And if ever you choose to return, you shall always have a place by my hearth."

"Thank you, my Lady," Brienne choked out, tears in her eyes. Sansa moved towards her then, and wrapped her arms around Brienne in a warm hug.

"Thank you, Ser," Sansa replied warmly.

A short while later, Brienne mounted her horse, hoping to catch Jaime before they reached King's Landing. When Podrick found out she was leaving, he moved to come with her; however, Brienne asked him to remain in Winterfell and look after Lady Sansa and Lord Bran. He didn't appear happy about it, but he agreed.

Brienne's journey to King's Landing was slower than she had anticipated, and by the time she reached the destroyed gates of the city, she was afraid she was too late. The capital was in flames; ash falling everywhere, buildings burning, or crumbling, or both. The Red Keep was still partially standing, and she could only hope that somehow Jaime was still alive. She had no idea how she would begin to find him.

As Brienne moved through the ruined city, she heard Queen Daenerys's voice, speaking Dothraki. She made her way towards the crowd, Daenerys's armies gathered to celebrate their victory. Though she didn't know what the Queen was saying, Brienne felt disgust and the cheering. How could anyone cheer for this destruction? She spotted Lord Tyrion near the front of the crowd and tried to get closer to him. If anyone might know of Jaime's fate, it was his brother.

Tyrion caught her eye, surprise flashing on his face briefly, and began to move towards her. She ducked into an alleyway and he followed.

"Ser Brienne," Tyrion greeted. "I'm surprised to see you in the capital, though I should have known that you would follow him." Tyrion's voice was heavy on the word him, and Brienne's chest constricted.

"Lord Tyrion," Brienne replied, feeling her composure starting to slip. "Is he – do you – " She couldn't bring herself to say the words.

"When I saw my brother last, he was headed toward the Red Keep, to speak with our dear sister. He hoped he could convince her to surrender, but he planned to try to end the war, either way." The implication was clear in Tyrion's voice.

"Ser Davos left a dinghy for him, should he be successful." Tyrion swallowed heavily, and continued, "The dinghy is still there, empty, and I haven't seen my brother."

Brienne's heart twisted in agony, and her knees started to buckle. She couldn't give up, though. Not yet, not after coming all this way. "If you haven't seen him, then he could still be alive," Brienne responded, her voice laced with determination that she wasn't sure she really felt.

"My Lady – I'm sorry, Ser," Tyrion began softly, "It is unlikely that he made it out of the Keep."

"Unlikely, but not impossible," Brienne replied. She felt her convictions strengthening. She simply could not believe that Jaime was dead. "Where was he meant to go? To find the dinghy?"

"There's an opening to the dungeons, right off the Bay," Tyrion answered solemnly. "Be careful, Ser, it's quite unstable."

Brienne was already walking away, heading towards the beach. She trekked through the fallen city, her disgust mounting, until she came to a small cove by the dungeons. There she saw it, the little boat. Only, it wasn't empty, as Lord Tyrion had said.

Her heart racing, Brienne rushed toward the dinghy and the hunched figure laying in it. He was injured – bloody and bruised, as if he had been stabbed and trampled. He wasn't conscious, but was he breathing, however shallowly. Brienne swallowed thickly. "Fuck, Jaime, you can't die on me now," she whispered. She knew of no Maesters in the city, and Jaime likely wasn't safe here anyway, with the Dragon Queen in power. Brienne had no choice but to get in the boat and start rowing, as fast as she could, while trying to keep Jaime's bleeding at bay.

As she rowed, Brienne couldn't help but think about the last time she padded Jaime across a body of water. How different things had been, back then, when he was simply an annoyance. She never could have imagined that one day she would come to love him so deeply that the thought of him dying was truly unbearable. Her heart constricted painfully once more, and Brienne rowed with renewed determination.

The winds had been kind and the Gods even kinder, Brienne thought, as she finally reached the shores of Tarth. Jaime was still breathing, though his continued lack of consciousness was concerning. It had been years since Brienne had been on the island, but she knew that she could count on the people of Tarth to be both helpful and discreet.

A little while later, Brienne was sitting in a room at Evenfall Hall, next to the bed where Jaime lay. The Maester worked quickly to treat his wounds, but had grimly told her that if Jaime didn't wake by the morning, it was unlikely that he'd wake at all. Brienne had cried then, no longer able to keep her composure.

Her father, Lord Selwyn, stood behind her, his strong hands on her shoulders. He had been overjoyed to see Brienne after so long, though it pained him to see her in such anguish.

"Brienne, my sweet," Lord Selwyn began, "Don't you think you should try to get some rest? You've been rowing nonstop for more than a day. Sleep, child. Ser Jaime will still be here in the morning."

"I'm not leaving him," Brienne responded sternly. "I can't leave him," she choked out.

"I never thought I'd see you so torn up over a man," her father joked. "I'm glad that you found someone."

"I love him," Brienne whispered, taking Jaime's left hand in hers. "I love him so completely and I can't lose him."

"I shall pray for him," Lord Selwyn said delicately. "For you and him both." He kissed Brienne gently on the forehead and walked out of the room, leaving Brienne alone with Jaime. She scooted her chair closer to his bed, and ran her free hand through his hair.

"You – love – me?" Came a gasping, broken voice. "Even after – I – left?"

"Ser Jaime!" Brienne exclaimed, "Let me get the Maester!"

"No," Jaime replied softly. "Don't leave my side, please. And it's just Jaime," he added.

"Jaime," Brienne repeated, her heart soaring. "You're alive."

"I'm alive," he answered slowly. "And I love you too."

Brienne wept openly, then, leaning down to kiss him gently.

"I'm sorry that I left," Jaime whispered.

"Shh," Brienne responded, "None of that matters now."

And it didn't, because he was alive, and he loved her.


End file.
